Adam Smith-Connor is an army war veteran in the UK. The 51-year-old spent much of his life as an atheist before converting to Catholicism in 2018.
After finding faith, Smith-Connor experienced deep regret over a decision by him and his girlfriend at the time to abort their child some 18 years earlier.
One of the ways that Smith-Connor expresses his regret for abortion is praying outside abortion clinics, specifically for the son who was never given a chance at life.
However, in certain parts of the UK, silent prayer within 150 metres of an abortion clinic is illegal, as it is everywhere in Australia.
Specifically, the law prohibits: “Protesting, namely engaging in an act of approval/disapproval or attempted act of approval/disapproval, with respect to issues related to abortion services, by any means. This includes but is not limited to graphic, verbal or written means, prayer or counselling.”
If Smith-Connor wanted to pray outside a clinic, he would inform the local council of his intention to do so, find a place where he would not be within line of sight of the clinic or anyone entering or exiting it (in this case, behind a tree with his back to the clinic entry) and engage in mental prayer. He had previously been informed by police that this was not a breach of the law.
However, a week later in another location about 50km away, two Community Safety Accredited Scheme officers employed by the local council took a different view.
They approached Smith-Connor who had his head bowed and eyes closed and was standing behind a tree so he could not be seen from the clinic, with his back facing the clinic entry and asked him what he was doing. Smith-Connor replied that he was praying.
“Can I ask what the nature of your prayer is today?” the officer asked him.
Smith-Connor replied that he was praying for his son.
The officer obviously needed to know if the prayer for his son had anything to do with disapproval of abortion, so she continued the questioning.
“Whilst I don’t want to probe as to the reasons that you are praying for your son, obviously, it is perhaps pertinent to the area that you are in,” she continued.
“I’m praying for my son who’s deceased,” came Smith-Connor’s reply.
After expressing her condolences on his loss, the officer told Smith-Connor that she was of the view that the prayer was indeed a breach of the Public Space Protection Order and asked him to move on. When he refused to do so, Smith-Connor was issued with a £100 fine.
Smith-Connor decided to challenge the fine and the matter went to court. He was ultimately convicted and ordered to pay £9,000 of the local council’s legal costs.
Looking at this from a simply practical perspective, it would be easy to criticise Smith-Connor. After all, as a Catholic he knows that God can hear his prayers at any time and in any location, so he did not need to pray outside an abortion clinic, nor did he need to put the local council on notice that he intended to do so. He could have simply moved on when asked, or paid the £100 fine instead of risking the much larger fine and using pro bono legal services that might have been directed elsewhere.
Obviously, this wasn’t about the practicality for him. It was about challenging an unjust law.
But Smith-Connor wasn’t the only one in this story intent on making a point. Bournemouth, Christchurch and Poole Council spent £90,000 to prosecute him for the crime and—even after they receive payment of the fine—will have spent £81,000 of ratepayer funds to make sure this guy and anyone like him never prays about abortion again.
The same council has been in the news recently because it is facing bankruptcy and has cut services in everything from lawnmowing to youth and children’s centres to try to keep costs down. Given the gravity of its financial situation, it is the council—and not Smith-Connor— that took the most ideological stand in this case.
The problem with these laws, which exist in every Australian jurisdiction and will be rolled out across the UK at the end of this month, is that if Smith-Connor had been doing the exact same thing on the outside, but in his heart and mind been praying for an end to the war in the Ukraine or the Holy Land, or for a lottery win, or even for his football team to win on the weekend, he would likely have escaped charge.
The overreach of a government that seeks to control not only a person’s outward behaviour, but also their thoughts is something increasingly characteristic of supposedly western, civilised nations, even if they are more akin to what could be expected of totalitarian regimes.